The summons came at 0300.
A sealed Council order delivered directly to my wristband: the Supreme Alpha was required to return to the neutral chamber for a mandatory virtual address at dawn. No excuses. No delays. The realm demanded proof he was still fit to rule.
I stared at the message in the dim corridor outside his room, the fracture in my chest burning like a live wire.
Return required.
They wanted him back in the world — even if only on a screen — while I still had him exactly where I needed him: broken, dependent, and leaking for me alone.
I walked into the treatment room without knocking.
Justin was barely conscious, body slack against the restraints, but his c**k remained rigidly hard, flushed and glistening from the controlled dosage I had administered hours earlier. The ser
